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Updated: June 6, 2025
There is, morally, no doubt that Turlington and the sea-captain who cast the foreign sailor overboard to drown are on e and the same man. Legally, the matter is beset by difficulties, Turlington having destroyed all provable connection between his present self and his past life. There is only one chance for us. All the black deeds of Turlington's early life are known to this man.
Richard Turlington's yacht was placed at her disposal, with Richard Turlington himself included as one of the fixtures of the vessel. After two happy months of lazy coasting round the shores of England, all that remained of Natalie's illness was represented by a delicious languor in her eyes, and an utter inability to devote herself to anything which took the shape of a serious occupation.
"Let us waive the point." "The color of his liveries, Joseph, not the color of his whiskers." "My dear Lavinia, you are thinking of 'Sea-green Shaw, so called from the extraordinary liveries he adopted for his servants in the year when he was sheriff." "I think not, Joseph." "I beg your pardon, Lavinia." Richard Turlington's knotty fingers drummed impatiently on the table.
She was the first who summoned presence of mind enough to give a plain answer to Turlington's plain question. "We received the telegram this morning," she said. "Something has happened since which has shocked and surprised us. We beg your pardon." She turned to one of her sisters. "Sophia, the pattern is ready in the drawer of that table behind you. Give it to Mr. Turlington."
"We have something very dreadful to tell you," she said, interrupting him. "You have been presented in this house, Mr. Turlington, as a gentleman engaged to marry Lady Winwood's cousin. Miss Natalie Graybrooke." She paused there at the outset of the disclosure. A sudden change of expression passed over Turlington's face, which daunted her for the moment.
I am exaggerating nothing, Launce; you know I am speaking the truth. There is no hope in the future that I can see for either of us. "Have you done, Natalie? I have something to say on my side if you have." "What is it?" "If things go on as they are going on now, shall I tell you how it will end? It will end in your being Turlington's wife." "Never!"
The eyes of Thomas Wildfang fastened greedily on Turlington's face. "Let's hear," he said. "Softly, captain. Let's hear." When the women came back with the clothes, Turlington had left the room. Their promised reward lay waiting for them on the table, and Thomas Wildfang was eager to dress himself and be gone. They could get but one answer from him to every question they put.
Turlington whispered fiercely, close to his ear "Launcelot Linzie!" In perfect good faith Sir Joseph declared that the man could not possibly have been Launce. Turlington's frenzy of jealous suspicion was not to be so easily calmed. He asked significantly for Natalie. She was reported to be walking in the grounds.
"We have lost two days in the calm. I must send ashore to the post-office, whether we lose the tide or not." The vessel held on her course. Off the port of Bideford, the boat was sent ashore to the post-office, the yacht standing off and on, waiting the appearance of the letters. In the shortest time in which it was possible to bring them on board the letters were in Turlington's hands.
My master was reported to be still with the doctor, waiting to see whether the man lived or died, when I left the village, miss, with the gentleman's answer to your note. I didn't dare stay to hear how it ended, for fear of Mr. Turlington's finding me out." Having reached the end of his narrative, the man looked round restlessly toward the window.
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